Inheritance Cycle: Book 4
by Dragonsrockandroll
Summary: This is what I think will happen to Eragon and Saphira. More chapters to come. Please submit reviews. I do not own the Inheritance Cycle. Christopher Paolini does.
1. Chapter 1

Eragon looked out at the rising sun and gave a heartfelt sigh. The land swept far below them and everything was miniscule. A soothing purr emitted from low in Saphira's throat under him.

_What is troubling you, partner-of-my-heart?_Saphira queried. She was worried about him. Eragon had been silent for the whole time they had been in the air. Usually flying was enough to bring anyone out of the dumps. It had been for Jeod earlier that morning, when Eragon had fulfilled his promise to let him ride Saphira. It rankled her that she had been handed off like a possession to be lent, but Jeod was a friend of Brom's. Therefore, she bore with it and at least had the satisfaction of feeling Jeod's joy and awe at riding her, the queen of the sky.

_Glaedr is still unresponsive,_Eragon replied in response to her question. Oromis and Glaedr had passed into the void two nights ago and Glaedr's heart of hearts radiated pure sorrow from within. The elf and dragon had been together for centuries, so Glaedr was completely within his right to mourn Oromis. Still, it was depressing feeling the immeasurable grief pouring out of his heart of hearts that he had given them.

Saphira could think of nothing to say that would lighten Eragon's load. She tilted her wings and made to fly back to the Varden's encampment. If Eragon was lost to her, she knew she would go after his murderers and render them apart limb from limb before departing this world. That opinion was not open to Glaedr. His heart of hearts kept his spirit locked in this world.

Each lost in their thoughts, they descended among the brightly colored tents and pavilions. Eragon dismounted as Blodhgarm came up to him. He and the other eleven elves that had been sent to him by the Queen Islanzadi were his bodyguards and responsible for his safety at all times. It was reassuring having them nearby, but sometimes it was purely annoying.

"You should not have been so long, Shadeslayer. What if you were attacked? We would have been unable to protect you and Brightscales," the elf admonished him.

_The sky is _my _territory. No one can best me there. Eragon was perfectly safe with me,_Saphira growled. Eragon fought back a smile. He knew that it irked her how the elves were constantly checking up on them, Saphira in particular. Their persistent bothering made her feel like a newly hatched dragonling.

"Of course, Saphira. I meant no disrespect towards your capabilities. Please excuse my thoughtlessness." Blodhgarm bowed and twisted his hand over his sternum in the elven sign of loyalty. It would be rude not respond or to pursue the discussion, so Saphira had no option but to acknowledge the apology.

"Eragon!" They turned to greet Roran, Eragon's cousin, as he ran up to them. Each had already felt him approaching and his riled-up emotions, but still his expression was startling. "Eragon, Elain has gone into labor!"

Elain, Horst's delicate wife, was worryingly behind schedule. Her child had been due weeks ago and Elain was showing signs of strain. All of the villagers fretted. Elain was much respected and admired throughout Carvahall. The birth would be hard and potentially dangerous for both Elain and the babe.

"Horst asks if you will come and help. Your powers might be of use," Roran pleaded. _Ah_, Eragon thought. _That explains his excitement._

"Lead me to their tent," Eragon responded quickly. He and Saphira followed Roran through the maze of tents to the villagers' section. Blodhgarm faded back into the shadows as easily as if he were one of them.

They reached Horst's tent to find a large number of people surrounding it. Katrina, Roran's wife and pregnant herself, sided up to them. She grabbed Roran's hand and said, "I'm glad you found him." Responding to Eragon's look of inquiry she said, "It isn't going well. Elain may have need of your magic. Come look for yourself."

_I shall wait out here for you, little one. Go on and see what you can do_, Saphira assured him.

So saying, Katrina led the way through the throng of people. A path was hastily cleared for them the pass through. Katrina lifted the edge of the tent for them to go through, and then followed them in.

It was dark in the tent and rather crowded. Angela was there, as Eragon should have known. The witch was kneeling by the bed which Elain lay upon and turned at their arrival. Various plants and bottles were strewn around the bed. Angela's face was grim as she surveyed the newcomers.

"Well, it's about time you got here," she addressed Eragon. "See what you can do. You may have more luck than me. I have tried every cure and herbal remedy that I know and yet I fear that it is not enough. If something is not done soon, they will both be lost."

On the other side of the bed, Horst stood holding his wife's hand. Upon his face was the expression of one who sees the thing he fears the most. It was clear that there was nothing more that he wanted than to take away his wife's pain and discomfort, but was unable to do so.

"Help her, Eragon. Please. If anyone can, you can. Don't let Elain be taken away from me." His voice held immeasurable amounts of desperation and despair. His sons, Baldor and Albriech, on either side nodded in agreement as they gazed down at their mother.

"I will do my best," Eragon responded. He sat down next to Angela and took Elain's hand from her. Extending his mind outward, he searched for the women's conscience and found it. He plunged himself deep into her mind to the root of the trouble. Upon finding it, he brought forth his magic and let it flow into her. He did not bind it into a specific spell, but rather gave it as he would a blessing, letting it flow into her body and heal it. It gave her energy and the will to fight on, to win this battle of life or death.

It seemed a long time that he sat there, holding her hand. In reality, Eragon knew it to only be a minute or two. Eventually he was rewarded for his efforts by the sound of a baby's cry as it entered this life. He relaxed and severed the connection between his and Elain's mind. Opening his eyes to a scene of chaos, he allowed himself a quiet grin. Eragon had saved two lives today, the lives of Elain and of her child.

The babe was healthy looking as it sucked greedily at its mother's breast. Horst, Baldor, and Albriech looked on with wonder and amazement at the new member of their family.

"You did a good deed, Eragon Shadeslayer," a musical voice intoned at his ear. It sounded like water falling over rocks in a stream. Eragon could smell pine needles and the forest. He did not need to turn around to know whom it was that spoke to him.

"I did what I had to, Arya. Or should I start calling you Shadeslayer as well?" Eragon smiled at that, as did Arya. In the last battle, several foolish magicians had thought to turn the tide in their favor by bringing a powerful and dangerous Shade onto their side, but Eragon and Arya had foiled their plan. Arya had defeated the newly created Slade by stabbing him through the heart.

"That does not decrease the act's value," smiled Arya. Doubtless she had been thinking upon the same lines as Eragon.

"Indeed," said Horst from across the bed. "I am deeply indebted to you for this. You have my right arm if you did not already, Eragon."

"On the contrary, I have merely paid any debts that I owe you for all of the kindness you have shown me and your loyalty to Roran during your trek here," Eragon responded. He owed Horst much. The man had always shown much kindness towards Eragon's family and he felt deeply indebted to him.

"Oh, stop with all of this grand talk of debts and right arms. It is so trying on the nerves. Really now! It isn't healthy to always be surrounded by all you noble heroes. Everyone saying such silly things and being all serious and stuff." Now that the trial was over, Angela's face was once more cheery and the wicked glint had already made its entrance back into her eyes.

Eragon bit back a smile and saw Arya doing the same out of the corner of his eye. Angela was one of the strangest people that he had ever come across. She was filled with mystery, yet made you feel right at home. With an insatiable desire to be where the action was and as unique as a flightless dragon, there was never a dull moment with Angela around.

"Either way, I'm just glad I could help," Eragon said. After fending off many profusions of gratitude, he managed to make it outside and back to his tent with Saphira. He felt a sense of approval and pride coming from her.

_Congratulations, dear one. Many people will spread word of this and you will be held in even higher regard for that act of kindness. You conducted yourself well. I am proud to call you my Rider._Saphira's eyes glinted at him in the light. Eragon was touched. He didn't think that it was that big of a deal. It hadn't been a difficult task, yet everyone was treating him as if he were a returning hero from war.

Eragon shrugged. _It was a simple task. I hardly feel any drain on my powers._Reminded of his power, he took the time to place some in the Belt at his waist. It was a princely gift, given to him by Oromis when he left Ellesmera. In it were secreted twelve diamonds of the highest quality. Gems were used by the Riders to store extra energy in times of peace in anticipation for times of war. There was one on his sword, Brisingr, and Brom's ring, the yawe ring, held vast amounts of energy. Brom had placed all of his energy into it while he waited out his days in Carvahall.

Thinking of Brom made Eragon sad. He had respected the old storyteller when he lived in Carvahall. Later, when Saphira's egg appeared to him in the forest, Eragon developed a higher level of affection for the old man. After Brom's death at the hands of the Ra'zac, he discovered that Brom had been a Rider himself, but his dragon, Saphira, had been killed by the Forsworn.

And only recently, Eragon had been told that Brom was his father. Father. He was half-brother to Murtagh son of Morzan, First and Last of the Forsworn and Brom's greatest enemy. For a long while, Eragon had suffered under the delusion that Morzan was his father until Oromis, Glaedr, and Saphira had told him otherwise. He and Murtagh shared the same mother, Selena, sister to Garrow, father to Roran.

Eragon wondered idly how Murtagh would take the news. He shifted uncomfortably atop Saphira. _As if I would have the chance to tell. I wish that Murtagh was still my friend instead of my enemy. I miss him._They had once been great friends and there was no other mortal that Eragon would desire by his side in a fight. His half-brother was a splendid fighter.

_It does you ill to think of _him_. Strech your mind to other topics. Think of the lives you have saved. Think of our purpose in this war._There were few humans, dwarves, or Urgals that could match the wisdom of Saphira.

_I know what our purpose is. We are the only ones who can achieve it. The death of Galbatorix._


	2. Chapter 2

Dawn's rays began to appear in the sky, casting into view the sapphire blue dragon that flew high in the sky and her two riders. The dragon flew fast and far whilst the elf and human slumbered. Not for much longer did they dream, though.

Their bodies gave almighty jerks as Saphira's voice brought them abruptly back into the world of the living. _Come, wake up! We are not far from the elves' encampment. I can almost smell them. Incidentally, it is a far more pleasing odor than some species I could mention. I'm going to land so you two can make yourselves presentable. It wouldn't do to have Queen Islanzadi and the rest of the elves see you in your current states,_ Saphira shouted at maximum volume into Arya's and Eragon's consciences. So saying, Saphira angled into a steep descent.

_Whoa! Give a fellow more warning would you?! One might almost believe that you _meant _to toss us off_, Eragon swore. A ghostly chuckle was all the response he received. He crouched as low as he could along Saphira's streamlined body. His ears detected a slight gasp behind him and Arya's arms tightened around his waist.

Saphira landed in a grassy clearing. Eragon and Arya dismounted groggily from her back. They paused to rub the sleep from their eyes and stretch their backs. The flight had begun hours ago after Nasuada had bidden them farewell. She hadn't been particularly pleased that three of the most important figures of the Varden would be gone at the same time. If it hadn't been Oromis's and Glaedr's death ceremony, then she might have insisted that they remain and assist with moving the Varden to Belatona. However, they had promised they would be back in time to participate in the siege and would take no injudicious risks on the journey, so she had been forced to grudgingly acquiesce.

"I feel rather…peculiar," Eragon said uneasily. The land was filled with a disconcerting atmosphere that sent shivers tingling up his spine, though whether they were good or bad remained to be determined.

"We are an ancient race. As with dragons and Riders, the land notes our passage. Never before have we traversed this land in such an unprecedented size. No doubt it will have unforeseen effects upon the land and the creatures that inhabit it," Arya said musingly. She began unpacking cooking utensils from the pack bags on Sapira's back.

"I'll go find some water. There's bound to be some nearby," Eragon offered.

"Good. I'll get the fire started. Hopefully we won't have to spend long here." Eragon went off in search of water and Arya started collecting fallen branches at the edge of the clearing. Several minutes later, a steady fire was going with a pot of water from a nearby stream boiling atop it. Saphira went off in search off a deer or two, promising not to take too long. Arya and Eragon lay on their backs watching the clouds float by above.

"Arya...," Eragon hesitated. Arya turned to face him.

"What is it? Do not be afraid or ashamed to speak your mind. I'm listening," Arya encouraged.

"Well, it's just that I'm curious. How…how are burial ceremonies conducted for a dragon and his Rider? Oromis touched the subject briefly in Ellesmera, but all he said was that it was a sight to behold. Surely you don't simply bury them, do you? There would be a lot of dirt to deal with." Eragon's eyebrows beetled together in confusion. He tried to keep the sorrow from drowning him. He and Saphira had loved the old ones as they would a father. Oromis and Glaedr were kind, wise, and compassionate. They had overcome the limitations of their own disabilities to teach Eragon and Saphira to the extent of their knowledge. Now they were dead. Murtagh and Thorn had killed them in the elves' lastest battle over Gil'ead.

"No, you are right. There is no way that we could bury a dragon easily." Arya paused as if collecting her thoughts. "I have never seen a dragon's and Rider's death ceremony, but I have been told that it is something one can never forget. All the scrolls I have read that tell of it claim that there is no duplicate of the experience.

"Apparently, Rider and dragon are committed to the "afterlife" together. I can't really think of another way to explain it. Though we do not believe in an afterlife, it is the closest word in this tongue that describes it. The Rider is seated holding his sword upon his dragon's back, but without the saddle. Unlike other races, the Riders would never take material objects with them, except for their clothes and sword. Occasionally, some pairs do take other objects with them, but this is very rare and only occurs if the object is exceptionally personal."

Eragon was silent, absorbing what Arya had said and committing it to memory. After some time, he asked, "'Committed to the afterlife'? I don't quite understand that part. I thought you said that they weren't buried. Are they burned?"

Arya sighed and a slight frown appeared on her face as if she had been hoping that he would not ask that question. "Neither. It's a bit complicated. I don't really know what happens to the…bodies. All I could gather was that one moment they are there and the next…they aren't. The scrolls didn't tell more that that and no one would tell me what happens." Her frown became more pronounced as she dwelled on that.

_Hmmm. Sounds intriguing. I wonder why no one will say anything. Maybe it's taboo. But, why? It doesn't sound as if it would be particularly dangerous information_, Saphira projected into their thoughts. Eragon and Arya looked back up at the same time and saw a flash of blue as she swooped past. The land shook slightly as she alighted and approached them from behind. She settled down and placed her head in the space in between them. A buck was clamped firmly in her formidable jaws.

"I agree. It's a mystery that should be solved soon, though. In a short amount of time, we shall know the truth," Arya said.

"Hmmm. I wonder if we will be bound in the same way as the others to keep from divulging anything. There is no reason why we wouldn't be. Perhaps we will have to swear to something in the ancient language," Eragon mused. He reached for the ladle and spooned some soup into his bowl.

Conversation was placed on hold as they ate the vegetable stew silently. Saphira retreated farther down the clearing so that she could tear into the buck without showering Eragon and Arya with its entrails. After they finished eating, they cleaned the utensils and splashed some water upon their arms and faces. Saphira licked clean the ground around her.

_Come. It is time to depart_, Saphira said. Eragon settled himself upon her back with Arya's arms firmly fastened around his waist.

They were not flying for long before they spotted the elves' camp approaching on the horizon. Saphira made for the largest of the pavilions, supposing it to be Queen Islanzadi's. She spiraled downward and tried to land as gently as possible. Even so, a large cloud of dirt rose and obscured the sun for a few moments. As it settled, elves began to congest around the landing site. They bowed as they approached and touched their fingers to their lips, whispering well-wishes.

Saphira's hunch proved correct as the opening flap to the pavilion presently was thrust open. Out strode Islanzadi in royal garb and her advisors. Eragon recogonized Lord Dathedr, a friend of Islanzadi and Arya both. Eragon and Arya slid down from Saphira's back and twisted their hands over their sternums. They went through the proper greetings and Islanzadi replied in kind.

"Salutations, Saphira Brightscales and Eragon Shadeslayer. You honor us with your presence. Also, it is good to see you, my daughter. I hear you are now Shadeslayer as well. We have heard of your deeds in the last battle of the Varden already and owe you thanks. If not for all three of your speedy reactions to the situation, there would be another Shade to deal with. However, we are saved from that predicament," the queen said in the ancient language. Saphira, Arya, and Eragon smiled and acknowledged the queen's words. Presumably, Nasuada had informed Islanzadi of the events of the battle last night when she had communicated via scrying glass with her. It was in that way the two powerful leaders had determined the time of Oromis's and Glaedr's death ceremony.

"Baths have been arranged for the two of you, Arya and Eragon. Unfortunately, there is no river nearby to accommodate your massive bulk, Saphira. I apologize sincerely for this inconvenience. However, should you wish to replenish your hunger, there are sure to be enough prey in the woods," Islanzadi said.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. We appreciate it immensely. Flying for hours can leave one sorely in need of a refreshing bath," Eragon responded.

_As for myself, I have no need of a bath. A brief nap is all I require. I already ate and drunk my fill before we arrived_, Saphira claimed.

Arya smiled. "Indeed. I doubt that the deer population will ever be the same after you!" Islanzadi looked sharply at Arya in disapproval. One did not speak so disrespectfully to a dragon. Her expression became staggered as Saphira snorted and bumped Arya affectionately with her snout. Arya rolled her eyes and scratched the mighty dragon's eyebrow, causing Saphira to purr. Eragon chuckled in amusement. Islanzadi observed all that passed with a thoughtful expression.

Lord Dathedr cleared his throat. Saphira, Eragon, and Arya looked up.

"If you would follow me, Brightscales and Shadeslayer, I will take you to your temporary quarters," Dathedr offered.

"Of course. Tha-"

_-nk you v-_

"-ery much."

_See you lat-_

"-er Arya," Saphira and Eragon responded. They blinked in unison, registering the elves' surprised expressions. "Um, we mean, thank you," Eragon apologized. "Sorry about that. Sometimes we forget that only one should speak at a time. It can give some people a headache when we switch turns talking. My cousin Roran, especially."

"Do not apologize. It is a good sign that your consciences are so intermingled that you speak as one, instead of two. If Oromis and Glaedr were still here, there is no doubt they would be pleased at your progress," Queen Islanzadi assured them. Her words reminded everyone why they were assembled and all present felt sorrow welling up within them again.

_If you please, Your Majesty, when is the ceremony to be conducted?_ Saphira queried somberly.

Lord Dathedr answered instead. "The preparations will be complete right before dusk. I will send someone for you before it begins. Now it is time for you to freshen up. Unless, of course, you wish to spend another hour conversing," he said pleasantly.

Arya's pealing laughter cut through the air. "I think you had best go, Saphira and Eragon. There will be time for questions later. Knowing you, Eragon, there will never be an end to those questions."

_Indeed. We are terribly sorry,_ _Lord Dathedr.__ We promise to follow you now_, Saphira said, feigning meekness. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He nodded and turned to disappear amongst the tents, Saphira right behind him. Eragon bowed hastily to Queen Islanzadi and followed after them.

They passed a multitude of elves, all of whom insisted upon greeting Saphira. The elves' praises and compliments for Saphira seemed unending. Eragon barely refrained from rolling his eyes. The elves never had forgiven themselves for their failure to help the dragons and Riders in their hour of need, as well as their embarrassment for warring against the dragons when the elves had first arrived. It seemed that one of the ways in which they determined to atone for past deeds was in showering her with incessant praise.

Saphira stretched her neck smugly. _You're just jealous. After all, how can something with two legs and no wings compare to a huntress-of-the-sky?_ she teased him.

He rolled his eyes. _Yes, let us all bow down before Your Awesome Grace! I beg leave to remove myself from your presence. One as lowly as me is not worthy to be near the Queen of the Skies._

Saphira snickered. A great, blue eyelid winked at him. There was a rush of wind as Saphira launched herself into the sky. Shouts of awe bubbled forth from the throats of seemingly all the elves in the camp. Eragon was unable to resist rolling his eyes this time.

Saphira flipped through the air and let a tongue of flame issue forth. She twirled like a ballerina and light shimmered off of her scales. Eragon had to admit it was an impressive display. _Showoff_, he muttered.

By now, they had arrived at the tent. It was slightly grander than its neighbors and the opening flap obviously was custom-made. It was unproportionally large and Eragon suspected the reason for this was a large sapphire creature he knew. Saphira could easily fit her entire head inside.

As if his thoughts had beckoned her, Saphira landed next to him and Dathedr. She pushed her head through the opening._ I like it. Have a look inside._ Obeying her command, Eragon walked around her head into the tent. Lord Dathedr followed at a discreet distance.

The tent's interior differed a great deal from their tent in the Varden. He could almost swear that the material it was made out of was leaves, but surely that was impossible. The bed was a simple wooden frame that Eragon suspected had been sung from fallen branches. A rudimentary dresser held a bowl of food and a pitcher full of water. New clothes were laid out upon his bed and a large bathtub took up half of the remaining floor space. Steam vapors rose lazily from the water, inviting him in. Eragon's limbs shook just at the thought of the soothing bath he was about to have.

"I hope this is satisfactory, Shadeslayer. We prepared it just last night when we heard that you, Saphira, and Arya would be arriving today," Dathedr said.

"It is most appreciated. Thank you very much. You are most generous," Eragon responded fervently, day-dreaming how the water would feel.

"Then I shall leave you to yourself. Saphira, are you sure there is not anything we can provide you with? You have but to ask and it shall be yours," he repeated.

_I am content, but thank you._ He nodded and withdrew. Eragon plopped down upon the bed and sighed contentedly. It was soft and inviting.

_Could you remove these annoying bags from my side, Eragon? I can't take a proper nap with them on._

_Sure_. He got up and relieved Saphira of her burden. That done, Saphira gave a huff and settled down to sleep. Eragon stretched his back and prepared for his long-awaited bath. Afterwards, he ate and drank his fill with relish. He polished his equipment until they shone and his hands ached. That done, he followed Saphira's example and fell into a short sleep. Tonight no doubt would be full of wonders and bottomless sorrow and he wanted to be prepared for anything, the wonderful and the terrible.


End file.
